


the role of competitiveness in raising healthy children

by antikytheras



Series: competitive child rearing [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Humor, M/M, Single Parents, competitive child rearing, leon has gay thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23257594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antikytheras/pseuds/antikytheras
Summary: Leon stares down at the tiny hand fondling his very generous pecs with only a slight frown of confusion. He doesn’t even wince when Gloria squeezes his chest one more time, like it’s for good measure or something.‘I like your hair,’ the five-year old Gloria says very seriously. ‘Can you be my mommy?’
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan, Masaru | Victor & Yuuri | Gloria
Series: competitive child rearing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672282
Comments: 19
Kudos: 157





	the role of competitiveness in raising healthy children

Raihan’s phone lights up. The number on the screen indicates that it is a call from his five-year old daughter’s kindergarten.

He immediately reaches for his phone, ignoring the indignant protests of the make-up artist who had been fussing over his perfect jawline for the past five minutes.

When he takes the call, he is careful to keep the perfectly clean glass screen from getting into contact with the foundation caked onto his face. ‘Yeah?’

He listens to the voice on the other end of the line. The voice belongs to a woman with knife-sharp sarcasm thinly-veiled behind a polite veneer of professionalism. It is a voice that has become unfortunately familiar.

‘Alright, I’ll be there in an hour.’

The owner of the voice hangs up on him.

The make-up artist starts to protest, but he rises from his seat and waves them away. ‘It’s fine, I can finish this shoot in fifteen minutes.’

He cannot help the satisfaction in the curve of his smile when he lets the silk bathrobe fall from his shoulders and the make-up artist falls silent. Under the harsh studio lights, a lesser man would find his imperfections singled out for all the world to see.

For him, the warm lights only serve to deepen the shadows of his collarbones, to suffuse the rich brown of his skin with golden light that seems to come from within. It highlights the triangle of his broad shoulders to his tiny waist, sharpening his hipbones and perfectly-sculpted muscles, but the black of the leather pants stretched over his thighs is deep and dark enough that his physique shouldn’t distract _too_ much from the real product he’s supposed to be advertising.

The model lounges on the lone white cube artfully placed in the middle of the set, spreading his legs out to the perfect angle, and grins at the camera. ‘Let’s make this quick. I have a date with a very impatient secretary.’

When Leon’s phone rings, he is singing a song while he fries up a large batch of omelette rice.

His voice fills the kitchen, just barely overpowering the sizzling of rice among spices and tomato and grilled chicken, but somehow, Leon still manages to catch the tell-tale buzz of his phone against the kitchen counter.

He sets down his spatula briefly to clamp the phone between his shoulder and ear so that he can go back to frying the rice in the flaming wok. ‘Hello?’

The voice on the other end of the line is entirely polite and professional, albeit a little more curt than usual.

Leon frowns, and the rice flies up in a wave with a flick of his wrist. Not a single grain lands outside of the wok. ‘Really? There must be some mistake, there’s no way—’

The voice continues, insistent and firm.

Leon leans down to turn off the gas. The food will be cold, but his son has always preferred the taste of leftover omelette rice anyway.

‘Okay, I’ll be right there. Sorry for the—’

The call ends.

‘—trouble,’ he finishes lamely.

Leon exhales heavily through his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. Then he begins to busy himself spooning the tomato-fried rice into serving-sized containers before giving the wok and spatula a cursory rinse under the tap.

While the food cools on the kitchen counter, he makes his way to his bedroom, wiping his wet hands on his sweatpants. He’d been planning to go to the gym before picking Victor up from kindergarten, but now he doesn’t think it would be a good idea to show up to the principal’s office in gym shorts.

So he stands in front of his tiny closet and stares at his limited assortment of clothes. It would be too much for him to show up in a proper shirt— he’s always showed up in casual attire, and the principal would certainly notice the change.

He reaches for one of the neat bundles of fabric in one of the many boxes lining the bottom of his closet. When he unrolls the red polo shirt, he is pleased to find that there are no creases.

He picks up where he left off, humming to himself while he changes.

Raihan parallel parks perfectly on the first try.

He is the picture of contentment when he climbs out of his shiny red sports car. It is absurdly eye-catching lined up against a street of practical, family-friendly sedans, but he has no need for anything bigger than a two-seater after all.

The photo shoot had gone very smoothly, so smoothly that the brand liaison had offered to gift him the pair of disgustingly-expensive leather pants that cling to the curves of his ass even now.

A part of him had been grateful to save the minutes he would have taken to wrestle the skin-tight fabric off his body, but another part of him says that he probably shouldn’t be walking into a kindergarten with brand-name leather pants. But the secretary had made it sound urgent, and who was he to deny her wishes?

The security guard at the front gate nods at him in recognition, but Raihan is pleased to see that he still follows protocol and takes down his name and exchanges his driver’s license for a visitor’s pass.

‘Came from work?’ the guard asks, making small talk.

Raihan laughs. ‘Is it that obvious?’

The guard waves him through, amused. ‘Miss Oleana isn’t going to be pleased.’

‘She’s never pleased to see me,’ he says offhandedly, but he goes on through to face her inevitable wrath anyway.

The path to Principal Rose’s office is a well-trodden one for him at this point. When he knocks on the door bearing his name on a plaque, he hears a frosty voice say, ‘Come in.’

Oleana is manning the reception area as usual, a regimented force of nature that keeps the minute everyday details of Rose’s kindergarten running.

She does not smile when he walks in. ‘He is waiting for you inside.’

‘That’s it?’ Raihan asks, faking hurt and incredulity. ‘No hello for me?’

Oleana continues not-smiling. ‘The other parent is waiting. Please refrain from wasting his time as well as mine.’

With a sigh, Raihan starts toward the only other door in the room. ‘I’ll get a smile out of you one day.’

She does not reply.

When he opens the door, the scene is familiar, only it isn’t. Usually, Rose will be sitting behind his desk, his hands clasped together and his eyebrows furrowed in consternation. Gloria will be seated on a chair directly across him. She will be staring at her feet, but there will be nothing but cheer in her eyes.

This time, however, there is a boy seated next to her. He looks like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. When he hears the door open, he immediately looks back over his shoulder, and spends the rest of the time staring at Raihan with wide-eyed, unmasked wonder.

And this time, seated next to the boy is a very nostalgic head of messy purple hair.

‘Leon?’ Raihan says incredulously. ‘You have a _kid_?’

Leon looks up with a start. The years have been kind to him, filling out his once scrawny features with more muscle and raw strength now. He even has a silly little beard.

He looks at Raihan like he’s not sure where he should be putting his eyes. ‘Raihan?’ he says at last, staring at his face with a dumbfounded expression. ‘I— You—’

Raihan is all smiles. ‘It’s been, what, more than a decade now? How—'

‘Right,’ Principal Rose interrupts tersely, ‘now that we’re done with this middle school reunion, can we please cut to the chase?’

Raihan looks at Rose and grins. ‘C’mon, you were our homeroom teacher, you can’t—’

‘I quit because of you two,’ he reminds him with a deep, unhappy frown. ‘I didn’t think you’d bring your troublemaking to a _kindergarten_.’

‘C’mon, it’s not like they’d start setting things on fire—’

‘Don’t,’ Rose says coolly, ‘give your daughter any ideas.’

On cue, Gloria turns back to look at Raihan with an angelic smile. It is a very dangerous smile. ‘Come on, papa! Sit with me.’ She pats the empty chair next to her.

He obeys. ‘Right, so what’s all this about?’

Rose sighs again. ‘Your daughter was caught trying to beat Victor over the head with a stick. Repeatedly.’

‘We were playing Human Crossing!’ she pipes up instantly. ‘We saw the videos, you take a bug net and then you hit each other on the head and it means that you’re best friends forever! But we didn’t have any bug nets, so I found us both sticks, and we both hit each other a bunch. It was fun.’

His daughter is adorable.

Leon is frowning. ‘Are you hurt, Victor?’

The small boy continues staring at Raihan, but he shakes his head.

‘You sure?’

Victor nods vigorously. He’s still looking at Raihan with sparkles in his eyes. It’s getting a little unnerving.

Raihan picks up the unsaid words. ‘Well,’ he drawls, ‘if neither of them are hurt, I don’t see the issue.’

‘I cannot have the children assaulting each other with sticks,’ Rose says with the same patience he would use to speak to his kindergarteners.

‘He took our friendship sticks away,’ Gloria says sullenly, kicking her feet.

‘You can be friends in other ways,’ Raihan suggests, and she brightens up in a flash.

Rose clears his throat. ‘Please ensure that there will be no more… stick assaulting in the future.’

After a few more veiled admonishments, Raihan, Leon and the other two actual children are sent out of the principal’s office.

Gloria takes Victor’s hand and tugs him out the door. ‘C’mon!’

Raihan watches her go with a fond smile.

Leon’s voice drifts in. ‘You adopted too, huh?’

Raihan sighs. If he didn’t have a solid layer of make-up slapped on his face, he would be rubbing his temples. ‘You’re as direct as ever, I see.’

‘She seems… like a handful,’ he says dubiously, taking a step forward to follow after his own kid, presumably.

Raihan stares at his feet. ‘Are you wearing _crocs_?’

Leon blinks and looks down. ‘Huh? Yeah, why?’

There is a very questionable stain on the inner thigh of his grey sweatpants. Raihan tries not to think too much into it.

‘I— Never mind,’ Raihan says, deciding that Leon’s poor fashion choices are entirely up to the man himself.

Leon’s staring at Raihan’s ass with absolutely no subtlety. ‘What’s up with your outfit, anyway?’

‘I came from work.’ He has no desire to delve into the specifics of his job. ‘You got a job that lets you work from home or something?’

Raihan notes the way he tenses and resolves not to ask too much about his work, either.

‘It’s fine, you don’t have to—’

‘I’m a stay at home dad,’ Leon says awkwardly, his words coming out all in a rush.

Raihan has to wonder how he’s surviving financially, but he knows better than to delve any deeper. ‘That’s cool,’ he says instead, glad to see the tension leave Leon’s shoulders when he doesn’t ask any more.

‘Yeah.’

There is an awkward silence.

‘We should probably get our kids,’ Raihan offers.

They make their way to the entrance. Gloria and Victor are whispering in a corner— or, well, Gloria is whispering heatedly to Victor, who seems to be slowly morphing into a tomato.

When she catches sight of them, she is the picture of innocence. ‘Papa! Why’d you take so long?’ she giggles, clasping her hands behind her back while she sways from side to side.

Uh oh. ‘Sorry honey, papa was catching up with an old friend. You ready to go—’

He is used to Gloria doing strange things, like suddenly attempting to climb up walls or flattening herself to the ground and flailing around like a starfish, because that is apparently what five-year olds like to do. Something about using up excess energy, according to the dubious motherhood forums he’s read online.

So when she barrels into him, he is not at all surprised, and only bends down to pick her up into his arms.

She settles into the crook of his arm with a happy sigh, and he chuckles and shifts to adjust her weight so that he can carry her more comfortably. When she reaches out a hand and _squeezes_ Leon’s chest, though, he can only stare.

She does it again.

And again.

It would seem that Leon works out.

Leon is taking this strangely well. He is staring down at the tiny hand fondling his very generous pecs with only a slight frown of confusion. He doesn’t even wince when she squeezes his chest one more time, like it’s for good measure or something.

‘I like your hair,’ Gloria says very seriously. ‘Can you be my mommy?’

And _now_ Leon breaks.

‘ _Raihan_ ,’ he hisses, turning an interesting shade of pink, and Raihan jolts into action.

He pulls Gloria away, and she lets out a low, displeased whine when her grip on Leon’s chest slips.

‘Gloria!’ he hisses. ‘You can’t go around touching people!’

‘But I want Victor’s papa to be my mommy!’ Gloria cries. He recognises her crocodile tears, that little cheeky thing.

‘That— That’s not how any of this works, dear,’ he tries to explain, but she only crosses her arms and turns away.

‘Victor,’ she demands from her perch high up in Raihan’s arms, ‘you want papa to be your papa too, right?’

Victor’s eyes widen. When Raihan’s gaze lands on him, even the tips of his ears turn completely red.

‘No,’ he says shyly, looking down at the ground.

Raihan isn’t sure if he’s flattered or if he wants to jump off a roof.

‘You said we can be friends in other ways!’ Gloria insists, hand coming up to grab at the collar of Raihan’s V-neck shirt. It is pure instinct that compels him to turn his head to the side so that his daughter does not end up getting her hands into his make-up.

Leon is _still_ staring at his ass. He notes, with amusement, that he and his son are the reddened spitting images of each other.

But for now, he turns his attention back to his little demon. ‘I meant friendship bracelets or, I don’t know, sitting together at recess or something. You’ve never told me anything about wanting a mommy, anyway,’ he accuses.

Gloria has the audacity to blink up at him with her big, innocent eyes. ‘I never wanted a mommy until I saw Victor’s papa. He has pretty purple hair, like a princess, so he can be my mommy. Is this love at first sight, papa?’

Aforementioned man with pretty purple hair coughs. It sounds like a choked laugh.

Raihan tries to set his daughter down on the ground, but she clings to him like a small octopus. ‘I’ll discuss it with Victor’s papa,’ he promises very seriously, ‘so why don’t you go play with Victor for now?’

That gets her to release her tight grip around his neck. ‘Okay!’ she chirps, laughing as she runs off to chase Victor, who has already had the sense to get a running head start.

Their laughter fills the air.

‘She’s… spirited,’ Leon says mildly, straightening the crease in his otherwise perfectly ironed red shirt. His skin has faded back to its normal tone.

Raihan snorts. ‘Yeah. Sorry about the whole, uhh…’

Leon saves him from having to spell out the events of the last few minutes. ‘It’s fine,’ he assures. ‘Just… she’s not going to hurt my son ever again, right?’

Raihan stills. ‘What?’

Leon continues, like he’s completely unaware of what he’d just implied. ‘I mean he’s fine, but I still don’t think they should be hitting each other with sticks.’

‘They’re kids,’ Raihan argues back, ‘of course they’ll be hitting each other with sticks.’

Leon raises an eyebrow. ‘Mine wouldn’t.’

It is a decade-old belligerence, but the challenge still sends Raihan’s blood roaring in his ears. ‘Are you saying your parenting’s better than mine?’

Leon shrugs. It is a deliberate action. Raihan remembers it well. ‘I don’t know. She’s a little unruly, isn’t she?’

‘She’s _five_ ,’ Raihan hisses, ‘and I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my parenting.’

Finally, a shadow of a doubt starts to cloud Leon’s eyes. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘Save it.’ Raihan turns away. ‘Gloria! We’re leaving.’

Leon watches Raihan skulk away. He is all cheer and goodwill in front of his daughter, but there had been no mistaking the anger that had boiled underneath his skin.

Victor tugs at his sweatpants. ‘What happened?’ he asks quietly.

Leon sighs and takes his son’s hand. ‘Your dad said something dumb,’ he admits.

He had panicked the second Raihan had walked in through Rose’s door looking like a perfectly-sculpted statue given life. He hadn’t expected his old rival to look— to look like—

His brain stutters to a halt.

 _Why_ would _anyone_ wear leather pants to a kindergarten?

On top of that, he hadn’t expected to run into anyone from his past. The only people he’d kept close after moving away were Sonia and, by extension, Nessa. The others— Milo, Gordie, Opal, everyone else— they’d all slowly reintegrated themselves into his life, with some of their friendships having taken several years to rekindle, in no small part because of his own hesitation.

And yet Raihan had sauntered in through that door with pure cocky confidence dripping from his body, with his equally charming daughter already worming her way into both his and Victor’s hearts.

Nothing about Leon had been ready for the whirlwind that had followed, so he had let himself slip into his old bad habits, back when he used to challenge Raihan to do the most absurd things, and Raihan had gladly taken him up on it every time. But things were different now, and he had let his tongue run far-too-loose, and now—

Now he doesn’t know what the strange fire in his blood means, and he’s too afraid to find out.

His life has been nothing but safe; good decisions and sheer luck carried him through what-should-have-been storms and endless disaster. But now, with the promise of a challenge, the scene of a familiar battle stretching out before him—

Despite everything, he finds himself smiling. Raihan has never been able to stay angry at him for too long, and they both know the rules of their silly little game.

Victor’s hesitant voice shakes him out of his thoughts. ‘Is Gloria going to be mad at me too?’

Leon squeezes his son’s hand. ‘Don’t worry, I have a plan.’

**Author's Note:**

> i hate children
> 
> also raihan is not a porn star you horndogs this is a g-rated fic. and the stain on leon's sweatpants is ketchup
> 
> come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/syorobao)


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